


dead ends

by decidingdolan



Series: theopolis (use at your own discretion) [18]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Multi, Second Person, Two's a company three's a crowd, introspective, rated for themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 09:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7309660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidingdolan/pseuds/decidingdolan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a late night. one Peter Parker, and a half-empty bed. Harry Osborn wonders why he cannot bring himself to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dead ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [esmidsm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmidsm/gifts).



> _I tried to love you less. I couldn't._
> 
> _\--Simone de Beauvoir,_ The Mandarins

* * *

 

He said, don't go.

And your heart almost fell to pieces at your feet.

(Why was it that he always ended up mending your heart and then destroying it right after? And why must you let him? 

Harry, why must you let him?

Possessive, outspoken. Pinned yourself on the map as the sole center of the world. Let your words command where north was on the compass, and you had to give it all up for him.

There's a certain seductiveness to his touch, you guessed. The warm, often ink-stained palms that engulfed yours and squeezed you tight. Their texture, those lines. You'd memorized them by now. 

He just had to say the words, and you'd return. Close your eyes, say a prayer. Meditate, calm your heart, and his name still rang in your ears.)

I have to, you said, fingers twisting into his grip. The one instance you let your body betray your words.

(He's always been The Exception. The fine print, the hidden details. The well-pressed leaf hiding in a thick hardback. He's your locked safe, a souvenir from a long gone period of your life. A reminder of childish innocence, and a trigger to set your blood boiling, all the same. 

He's Peter Parker, ordinary Peter Parker. Brooklyn kid, townhouse, Jansport backpack and the plainest black-rimmed glasses prescribed at the local corner store. Peter Parker, and you'd give it all up to turn time around and have him be yours.

Again, that's the important part. Again.

Because there were other players on the board now. Other hearts you and him would rather not mess with. Barriers you had to surrender, because for once your all-access pass in life was void.

Because of her.

Stay, he's pleading with his eyes--you hated that, Please, Har.

Stay with me.

His three words seemed to echo against those thin walls. He'd moved from Aunt May's to his own apartment (still in Brooklyn, of course), one-bedroom. Two occupants. And the other wasn't, obviously, you.

Pete, you're biting your lips, an act he'd read as hesitancy (and he'd be right), you know I can't.

He frowned. Those lips, those gorgeous lips, turned down and the face torn apart.

_Serves him right_ , said your mind, the minute when stones weighted in on your heart.

Peter's laid on the bed, naked, arm outstretched. His hand's caught in yours, and you'd been trying for a guilt-free, painless exit.

No luck with this lot.

He half-turned, a side facing your standing form. 

One tug, and he pulled you close, into him. 

_Curse his powers._

She won't be here till noon, he's whispering against your ear, all softness and invisible strings tugging you back, and, Christ, your nerves were off the rails again.

_Christ._

* * *

 

"Pete, _fuck_."

That feeling when you'd been starved for air for too long, and your brain had just started to short circuit? 

He'd brought it all back to slap you in the face.

_"Pete."_

Your hands gripped the sheets, fingers strained on the thin cotton and legs stretched to the edge of the bed. The AC was on, but your head was a throbbing thousand degrees.

He climbed up between your legs then, bent his head down and pressed his lips to a corner of your left thigh. His finger traced down your right, and a hand held onto your thrusting frame.

Maybe you'd really been away from him for far too long. You usually didn't break this easily, not at all.

It's those lips.

"Pete, come on."

It must be.

"Stop playing around."

He smiled at your words. "I'm not," (Bastard.) he said, "You know I don't play around with you."

He took you in his hands, and you were through with language. Aunt May's sweet boy had that much of an effect on your brain, imagine.

"And you know," (Oh Jesus. That....that tongue licking you up...those hands cupping you--ahh.) "That I don't get to do this often."

"Hmfghhh," was your best reply. He swallowed you up before the sentence's finish, and you slammed your head on the pillow. 

He started sucking. Light, tiny ones. Your hand flew up to your mouth. Had to stop yourself from screaming.

It's those lips. 

"So pardon me," he's whispering against your thigh, "Pardon me for having a little fun."

It must be.

And you'd smile at that smirk, you'd kiss it until those lips forget how to speak, suck them until words rolled back into his throat.

If you weren't drowning in a backward roller coaster of his making about now.

* * *

 

But she will be here, you said, eyes shut and wriggling yourself free, And she'll know.

He kissed the top of your head, sniffed your hair. You breathed in his scent. One, two. Hands had to let go. Words finish. Sentences end. People leave.

Why couldn't you two accept that?

* * *

 

"You close?"

He's asking, his voice deafening in your ears. It may have been a whisper. It may have been a mutter,  a murmur, a shout. Raised voice, hidden words. You hadn't a clue.

"Come," he said, a few seconds later, his lips still working at it, "Har, let go."

And you did. 

Melted bones and lost limbs, but you did.

* * *

 

She already does, he shook his head.

That ticking bomb's already gone off, a year ago. You were playing around with its remains.

And stinging yourself with them. Apparently.

I-- you blinked, faced him, and set your eyes to the floor. 

I'm sorry.

The best you had to give. It was a dance in the shades, no sneaky attempt. It was you two sneaking around behind the curtains. The day had come, and you knew the spotlight had caught up with you.

No happy endings for a villain like you, wasn't that a fact.

Discovered his powers, fell in love, got the girl, rolled around in the sheets a couple of times with his best friend. The hero had to have it all, wasn't that a fact.

I love you, he said, and you cursed.

Peter Parker was the worst human being ever lived. The worst.

Don't, you raised a hand. He'd let you go, and there you were, standing and facing him and cursing your entire existence. This was a dead end. This was a dead life.

I don't-- you pushed back your hair, turned away from him, --you know what, it's been fun, Pete. It has.

But I don't need you. 

_I don't need to hurt like this. I don't need to fuck myself up--you'd done that for me enough._

You could have anything, anything in the world, and you had to have him.

No. No, you didn't. Not anymore you didn't. 

I love you, he repeated, and you could feel his eyes seared onto the back of your neck. I love you, but I can't leave her.

I know, Goddamn it, Peter. Did I ever. She is yours. You love her too. You wanted us both. But you can't. Not in this world. Not now. I can't live with it. I won't be your second choice. I won't be on the other end of the line when you're in need for a fuck and she's not around.

I just won't.

And you know, you damn well know, I don't give in to anyone.

Anyone but you.

It's only you. It's always been.

I'm sorry, he said, slow. You could hear the tears in his tone.

I have to go, you replied, simple, fast, and slipped into your shoes. Stepped out soon as your feet could let you.

It's over, your mind was saying. It was. 

So why weren't you happy?

**Author's Note:**

> I've missed my darling Harry and Pete! It's been too long.
> 
> Thank you so much for stopping by, reading, and reviewing :)
> 
> x
> 
> Your ever humble fanfic writer


End file.
